


With All the Madness in My Soul

by theweightofmywords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:29:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4714394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweightofmywords/pseuds/theweightofmywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron is so tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With All the Madness in My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but this work. J.K. Rowling owns these characters.

“Why are you here?” George slurred, peeking up at Ron through squinting eyes. Ron had promised his mother to check on George.

“Just felt like stopping by,” Ron lied.

“You’re lying.”

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re a wanker.”

“Fuck you.”

George nodded and chuckled weakly as he stumbled to the bathroom. He pissed with the door open.

“You want dinner?” Ron inquired, praying silently that his brother would say yes.

“Yeah. To the pub,” George said simply, walking past Ron as he grabbed a jumper.

To Ron’s surprise, George ate some chips. Ron encouraged him to eat by commenting on how good the food was, but George preferred to consume his calories in liquid.

“C’mon, Ronnie, drink with me,” George prodded, pushing a shot of firewhiskey towards him.

“I really shouldn’t,” Ron replied, shaking his head. “I got auror training tomorrow morning.”

“Auror training in the morning, oh my!” he mimicked. Ron felt his face growing red with anger as he bit his tongue. 

“Just one shot,” George requested more seriously, his voice tinged with desperation. “Please." 

"Oh, alright,” Ron faltered. He felt like if George was going to get pissed, he should have company. George clapped him on the back and whooped. Ron picked up the shot glass as to offer a toast. He looked at George expectantly.

George’s face became sullen. He shook his head.”Don’t toast. No one wants to think of…” his voice trailed before he gulped the liquor down. 

Ron stayed and got drunk with him. A few hours later, he tried to bring George back to the flat above the shop, but George insisted on staying. The music in the pub seemed too loud, and he knew that the smile George was wearing for the group of witches around him was fake. Feeling dizzy, Ron had to get out. 

When he arrived at Grimmauld Place, he ran up to his room. With the door closed, he began to notice his clenched jaw and the tight feeling in his chest. Breathing raggedly, he reached for his pack of cigarettes and began smoking. He held the cigarette with shaky fingers as he paced the room. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw George’s smile: too wide, too much teeth. 

George’s fake smiles. His mother’s pleading,“Ronnie, check on him, please?” His father’s constant changing of subjects. Percy’s renewed presence, his careful words. Ginny’s letters from Hogwarts, asking him, “How’s George?” Hermione’s screams as she tossed and turned in bed, echoing her torment from the war. Her voice, “That’s really kind of you to look after George, Ron.”

Ron slid to the floor in utter defeat. He began to cry. 

He had changed in the war. Grown stronger, more responsible, more mature. He knew it. He felt it. They felt it too. 

But he was tired. He missed Fred just as much as they did. They seemed to forget. 

Ron tried to stop crying. Setting his jaw and rubbing his eyes, he felt his chest heaving as more tears emerged. Hiding his face in his hands, he surrendered and sobbed, shoulders shaking, voice hoarse. 

“Ron?” Harry’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. With a start, Ron stood up. 

“I’m okay,” Ron replied, rubbing his face and nose. Attempting a cheery voice, he added “Goodnight, Harry.”

Dizzy from the rush of blood to his head, he stumbled to the dresser. For the first time all day, Ron looked at his reflection. Blood-shot eyes and dark circles. He hadn’t slept well since Hermione left for Hogwarts. His eyes drifted towards the bottle of sleeping potion by his bed. 

He was so tired.


End file.
